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Monthly Archives: July 2020

i am ever(y w)here

i am everywhere

i am nowhere

i am now here

i am

on a side // street off the main market in Dharan on the chip stone stoop of a printers’ shop, archaic by modern standards but you work with what you got — in this existence

(i am)

& kids sneak peeks around the shop’s gaping mouth left by the roll up metal tracked-door, hand painted in peeling maroon and golden yellow, advertising something that most can’t afford to get, but reminding them that it is there — here — just out of reach

i am

Pungent, and unwashed, as they are, preceded by the flavor of our shared survival. His once red shirt, a grease-y crimson smudge to browns & black & their bare feet

I am

bearing witness in

bare feet grasp the sand & rock, the bones of this earth, crushed smooth in passing // passing by all their ancestors & hooves & wood-wheeled carts & bent bicycles barely rideable or scooties, hanging on as the earth spins, slower here, yet still fast enough to throw you off

i am

making finger puppets out of discarded paper scraps the printer collects in a box to burn in the street at dusk with all the other trash in a smoldering black smoke. even in the hug of the thick air heat

(i am)

telling a story, making the characters dance from pointer to index, nodding as they speak & periodically the kids dart forward to smack the puppets off their perch before darting back a safe distance. the puppets flutter to rest in the gutter of water and the refuse that leaks out of us

(i am)

but they don’t dare leave // (don’t dare leave)

& i don’t, i

just fold another & continue the story

We are everywhere

We are nowhere

We are now here

for Grace @ dVerse. For those that read my prompt at dverse earlier this week, you saw the picture that goes with this poem.

 
20 Comments

Posted by on 2020/07/16 in Uncategorized

 

They are anything but

plains of gold & shadow, grains & tall grasses,
a ground hardened by lack & nuptuous mounds
of bruised blackberry clouds
heavy with rain waiting.
lightning spider webs every crevice
& thunder dense with hoofbeats/footfalls/a pulse impinged
on stretched skin // drum
heads,
our severed roots cry out

& I cup my hands into a chalice
to capture everything that falls, to fill up
enough to jump in the deep end, without holding
a breathe.

Of wind, the grasses are moving
in dance, only those that have been taken
know; a captured lioness in my ribcage,
a prowling pride
stalks me(at)
& leaves
bones
sucked clean to bleach
under a newborn sun

Perhaps her eyes are enuf
for you
to understand, but i don’t
& that

is why i // sit here
with her
picture
tracing irises with fingers
which

except & accept
the frame of color this white space
allows.

Ok, this ones been brewing for days & I still feel its got a ways to go, but I am hosting the 8 year anniversary prompt over at dVerse Poets & haven’t written anything serious in far too long, much less shared it.

 
23 Comments

Posted by on 2020/07/14 in Uncategorized